


All Cards on the Table

by rabiosareads



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Dirty Talk, Excessive Drinking, Exhibitionism, F/M, Jealous Poe Dameron, Jealousy, Sexual Tension, Smut, Undercover Missions, love triangle? sort of, suggestive exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:13:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23978761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabiosareads/pseuds/rabiosareads
Summary: What do you get when you take a mission on Canto Bight, Poe Dameron, a past lover, and alcohol?Nothing good, I can tell you that.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Original Character(s), Poe Dameron/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 28





	1. A Shot of Liquid Courage

**Author's Note:**

> Reference note: here is her outfit that is mentioned in the chapter!
> 
> https://www.newsindiatimes.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/08/HAPPYMONDAY_FASHION-PARADE-RUNWAY-81.jpg

Dawn blessed D’Qar with a seemingly quiet atmosphere. Despite the low chirps of insects and the rustle of foliage, the planet stood still. The warmth of the rising sun was comforting and the smell of earth filled the air, heavy in its humidity. She sat against a tree, her eyes finally closing after a long sleepless night. She didn’t mind the goosebumps on her skin or the growing wet patch underneath her bare feet; she let her spine connect to the earth and let her body reconnect with her mind. It was the third night in a row that she tried to sleep consistently, her nerves an absolute wreck. Her bones felt weak and heart heavy. Being in the Resistance was not for the faint of heart, she concurred, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed to feel this way.

She was grateful for the opportunity. To fight alongside Leia Organa was an honor that many could dream of and never obtain, here she was doing just that, yet there was a piece of her aching for a break. It tired to her no end, slowly convinced her body would only function of bursts of adrenaline and caf. She examined the various scars and scrapes on her arms and legs, whether it was from rouge blasters, sparks or jagged metal, some of them still fresh with bright red scrapes. She pushed her bottom lip out, wondering how her skin would look if it wasn’t for the war. 

What else did she have to lose? General Organa saw her potential blossom through her wise ways, way beyond her years, seeing her determination shine brighter than most. Even in the most serious of situations General Organa couldn’t help but snicker or smirk at her quick quips, a mouth of lightning and voice of thunder. She wasn’t the one to be messed with. Yet why does she feel so… weak?

The smell of caf brought comfort to her racing thoughts, her mouth watering. She opened her eyes and let out a deep sigh, deciding to push back her worries and slip back on her brave mask. She had people to save and people to impress, she’ll have time to be vulnerable once the war is over. She slipped on her shoes and looked to the sky again, hoping to the Maker that it would be a better day. 

She jogged past mechanics and pilots, exchanging pleasantries, bodies whipping past her. From sun up to sun down they were in business and that kept her level headed. BB units zoomed past her feet, making their way towards the mess hall. 

Despite being dead tired her stomach growled loudly at the sight of savory food and canisters of bitter caf. She smiled to herself piling her plate, overwhelmed with the selection. She tried balancing a cup of steaming caf until it was lifted, a chuckle behind her back. 

“Easy there, there’s enough food for you,” the voice teased.

She looked up at Poe, who stood there with his signature smirk. Even in the early morning his curls were perfectly laid, uniform sharp to each detail and eyes glossy for adventure. He examined her face, his smirk turning to a frown. “You look like shit.”

She rolled her eyes, walking towards a table. “Well, aren’t you honest, Dameron.”

He wasn’t wrong. Her once bright eyes were sunken in, a light ring of purple around them. Her skin was dull and her shoulders were slouched. She sat her food down and grabbed the caf from Poe, taking a huge gulp. Warmth spread across her chest, grateful for the caffeine.

“I’m just saying,” he shrugged, watching her examine her plate. “You doing okay?”

She picked up a slab of Bantha meat and dangled it in front of her. “Just… can’t really sleep at night, I guess. I need a vacation.”

“The Resistance doesn’t take vacations, kid.” Poe simply stated, sending her a weak smile.

She nodded in agreement, slowly chewing the meat. “I know, but I’ll do anything besides dodging blasters and TIE fighters for _one_ day. I feel like my mind is always in the stars and not in my body.”

Poe felt her heavy words, his brows frowning. Her usual chirpy self wasn’t all the way there, no matter how often she flashed a reassuring smile, returning to her pile of food. He rubbed his hand behind her back and let her eat in silence, looking at others at the table with furrowed brows. He tried to let her have a silent breakfast but his mind flew with doubt. Can she fly thinking this way? What problems does this pose for the rest of the squadron? If she’s one of the essential fighters, will this hurt their strength? She noticed his thumb drumming the back of her chair in thought.

“Poe,” she whispered, leaning into his ear. He hummed, still into his conversation. “I’ll be okay. Promise.”

After her hearty breakfast she grabbed her datapad from her room, sweeping up with her finger to check diagnostics on her ship and other tasks. The datapad didn’t say much so she hoped she could sneak a nap in. Her eyes were too busy scanning the notes in the diagnostics report to notice the familiar orange and white droid rolling beside her. 

BB-8 beeped a greeting. “Oh! Hey BB-8, what’s up?”

He squeaked and whirled that Poe was looking for her, but that he wanted to come by and see if it was okay. She smiled sweetly at the droid, amazed that he was able to care so much. She looked up at Poe, who was jogging towards her in his fighter suit.

“Hey, General Organa is looking for us.” he breathed, nodding his head towards the end of the hall. She sulked behind him, wishing that she was faster to her room for that well needed nap.

At the end of the small conference hall sat General Organa, her silk hair slicked back in a large bun. She rested her hands on her charcoal grey dress, eyes smiling at the two pilots.

“General,” her voice was strict with professionalism. “You wanted to see me?”

General Organa nodded and greeted her full name back. “I wanted to speak with you two personally. We’ve retrieved some valuable intel detailing the next installment of the First Order’s plans to create a new star destroyer. However this informant is part of a team that resides their connection to Imperial trade on Canto Bight. Considering you have experience on the resort I would like you to go on reconnaissance with Poe as your escort.”

She stood there tense, mouth agape. She hadn’t heard of that place in Gods know how long, shocked that it took this long for her past to catch up to her. She wasn’t too happy of being familiar with the casino grounds and the presidential boxes of the Fathier jockeys, but she couldn’t deny the fun she had at the same time. Poe looked at her curiously, frowning at the name as well.

“General… did I hear you right? Canto Bight?” He tried to defend her.

“We couldn’t have met up with the informant on neutral ground, he insisted on Canto Bight?!” Poe tried to protest with a groan before General Organa rose her hand.

“That _is_ our neutral ground sadly,” she agreed with his fit, standing up. “Our informant wasn’t willing to negotiate on that.”

She only nodded and erected her spine, her throat heavy. The entire time Poe stared at her with immense concern.

“This should be quick, but I’m giving you two a few nights in case he proves to be faulty in attendance. I trust that you can handle this, I specifically thought of you when we received it… Here’s what we know about him so far...”

She was out the door before any more details were given. She sped past Poe towards her dorm, her heart beating in her ribcage so fast she could taste the tendons. She knew she would be met with suspension coming back from the bubbling sickness in her belly made it impossible to stand it further.

At first she wanted to cuss at General Organa, pester her about how she was the last person to go to Canto Bight, instead she shoves it away with another shirt into her duffle bag. Tears stung her eyes, hazing the mass of clothes on her bed, her mind so caught up with anger that she didn’t hear the door slide open.

Poe called her name, tapping her shoulder. “You’re okay, kid?”

She whipped her head over her shoulder, his eyes large with still worry. She shook her head, putting her hands on her hips. “I’m okay.”

“No,” he shook his head back, gesturing to her to sit down. “No, you’re not. Something about Canto Bight ain’t sitting with you well.”

She began to wonder why did she decide to express such strong disdain for Canto Bight in front of her superiors. She wasn’t that she herself wasn’t necessarily a monster but she knew that the people surrounding her were and just sharing that space, it was easy to point fingers. It was easy to get caught up in the neon lights and overflowing liquor, letting the pulsating music loosen your mind, but at the end of the night what was it all for? A couple of credits and throbbing thighs? She didn’t want to face it again.

“It’s a long story Poe… I’d rather not talk about it now.”

“You wanna talk about it on the ship? It’s going to be a bit of a ride?”

She grinned at him sadly, rolling her shoulders. She grabbed another shirt, making sure to fold it neatly. “Can you promise something?”

“Anything for you.” he murmured confidently. Her heart skipped at his genuine enthusiasm. 

“Don’t tell _anyone._ It’s going to be between you, me and General Organa and I’ll know who said what to who. Promise?” 

He placed a hand over his heart, fluttering his lashes dramatically. “Your secret is safe with me!” He got up from the bed, winking. 

“Also, pick your best dress. If you’re going to be my date I want her to look better than me.”

He didn’t notice her struggle to swallow her words. She merely nodded and let him slip out the door. She bit her bottom lip, letting his words run through her mind. She pulled out a chest with her initials engraved in it, clicking the gold buttons open.

* * *

Canto Bight was everything that she remembered it to be and, somehow, more. The bright neon lights were tempting to any and every visitor, the entire resort booming with pulsating beats and laughter. Everything lit her mind up in flashing memories, down from the sequin dresses and thumping of Fathier hooves. She felt… excited. Anticipating the best? No, she shrugged off, _this_ was a mission. Just like any other run. She knew better than to stare into the hypnotic neon Basic text, grasping the hands of the gamblers and shot girls. She ran into the ‘fresher, staring at her reflection. Her hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, ears decorated with the most delicate bronze jewels, curling at the lobe into a semi circle. She passed another coat of lipstick to her lower lip, letting it drag. She couldn’t recognize the person in the mirror, becoming so used to rushed braids and helmet hair. _When was the last time I wore earrings?_

Her skin glowed against the weak light, contrasting her apple cheekbones, lips plump with her constant biting. She was amazed under all the soot and oil held supple and sharp skin, her eyes feline like from the tightness of the hairstyle. The suit was practical, rich gold embroidery of delicate floral design. It was tapered to fit her sweet shape and lace wrapped around her right arm, the soft material tied around her waist. She couldn’t remember where she retrieved the dress but was sure whoever bought it for her was being beyond generous with their winning credits, boasting that only two other copies exist in the Outer Rim. This had to be pure luxury in a jumpsuit, only seen on the finest diplomats and socialites, and this young woman from a resistance group gets to wear it for one more night.

A knock comes at the door, making her jump. “All done?” Poe asked, his voice seemingly excited.

“Y-Yeah, almost! Have to find a place where to put my kriffing blaster.”

He stifled a laugh behind the door, his ears ringing red. She realized the image she might’ve given him some ideas but decided on letting him have it. She took one more look at herself, her eyes suddenly bloodshot with excitement, grabbing her matching clutch from the sink.

“Don’t turn around.” she looked at his back, watching his head rise to laugh. 

“Is it a surprise?” he teased, turning his head slightly. She slipped on her heels, her face boiling. 

The heels clicked across the steel, soft and shy, slightly scooting along from inexperience. She cursed herself for not being as graceful as she used to be, but there wasn’t any room for fancy footwork in the middle of an X-wing. She took a manicured finger, retracting back in hesitance, then landed a hand on his shoulder. He turns around, eyes tightly shut, earning a scoff from her.

“You can look, Dameron.” she scowled, resisting her reddening face.

As soon as he did his lips parted open, hissing a small breath in. He was expecting something more conservative, secretly wishing for more skin, but this happy medium was enough for his racing heart. He bit his lip, eyeing her up and down, clearly noticing the bashful curve of her shoulders. He noticed she even applied perfume, deep notes of jasmine and neroli, making his skin prickle in wonder.

“Now when I said that i wanted my date to look better than me I didn’t mean it so literally,” he breathed, circling her. She rolled her eyes, feeling her curled lashes brush her brow bone. “You look great.”

“Whatever, we have to blend in anyway!” she exclaimed when he sat back in the commanding chair, folding his arms.

In her head she cursed his compliment because he looked as good, if not even better. His black curls were slicked back, hints of chestnut brown waving in between strands. His skin was a sunkissed olive, face shaven clean, trailing down to his slightly exposed chest. He wore his best crisp cotton white shirt and tight black slacks, the material curving and hugging each swole muscle on his body. If she didn’t know Poe and kept the life she lived she would’ve done everything in her power to sink her fingers into his gleaming chest. They stood there, time speeding past them, letting the tension thicken in their gaze. He decided to break it by pushing himself up, eye contact still heavy, floating towards her.

“Are you going to tell me what happened here?” he murmured, noticing the light sheen of champagne on her lids. 

She ran a hand through her ponytail, sighing. “Promise me again you won’t say _anything_ to _anyone_.”

He raised his pinky and nodded, completely serious. She grabbed it with hers, closing her eyes to gather how much she was going to tell him.

“Okay… Before all of this, before… anything… I used to… Gods!” she groaned, feeling her chest tighten with embarrassment. 

He exclaimed her name, grabbing her shoulders. “Come on! You can trust me with anything, kid, I won’t judge. Judgement free zone, right here.” 

The last thing she needed was a man like Poe Dameron, arguably the greatest man she’s ever met, to plant those seeds of regret in her belly.She was a woman of fiery words, spitting hot lava to every unfortunate person who deserved it, but feared rejection. 

“Okay. Sorry. I used to, uh, come to Canto Bight all the time to… gamble. Things got hard when I left home but while I was there my dad taught me how to play Sabacc. I was good at it, _really good,_ so I decided to make a trip down here to try my luck. Well one winning hand turned into two, into a few more… I was getting a lot of attention, especially from men, so I used that to my advantage too.” she paused, gauging a reaction. He stood still, eyes frowning in concentration. 

She continued, her voice shifting into a nervous slur. “I-It’s not like I stole money from them or anything! But the attention felt nice. They bought me nice things, one of them bought me this jumpsuit,” she trailed down her hands, now playing with her lace sleeve. “After awhile I knew I was wasting my time here. I didn’t like the fact that I wasn’t making a difference by fraternizing with some horrible people, even if it was for materials. And here I am… back to square one…”

Her head throbbed from stress, fully ready to have Poe shut her out. He remained still, not one blink since she started her story. He finally closed his eyes, rolling his sleeves up even more to expose his firm forearms. He watched her tears swell up in her eyes so he graced a sweet smile.

“We’ve all questionable things in the name of survival. Shit, I’m not proud of everything I’ve done. What matters is that you decided that day that enough is enough and you’re making a difference. This doesn’t make me think any less of you, kid…”

His sweet words pierced her tight throat, releasing a satisfied sigh. The gleam in his eyes signified that it was a genuine reaction, feeling foolish that she would even question a sudden betrayal. He held an arm out, his chin up, beaming his famous smirk.

“Come on _femme fatale_ , we got an informant to meet.”

She groaned, gripping her clutch. “Don’t call me that!”

“What should our alibi be? I’m your bodyguard, you’re the rich socialite? Or maybe vice versa? You do have strong arms, I’ll give you that, I’m sure you’d win a fight or two!”

“I regret coming with you with every piece of my kriffing body.”

* * *

The ringing of slot machines, the commotion of multiple languages, the sudden slurring smells of alcohol. All of these things attacked her senses, keeping her in limbo, her body swaying against Poe occasionally. She eyed the crowd, darting in her skull, the noise of the jazz band ringing in her head. It was intoxicating to be back in the middle of the casino, but instead of her body buzzing with familiar attention she wanted to run back to the ship and curl up in her cot. That’s why they say this kind of place is no good for you, its talons sinking into your shoulder, seducing you to play one more hand or take one more shot. 

Poe looked down at her and placed his lips near the top of her head. “You’re doing good, just relax a bit, okay?”

She nodded, watching a male Rodian slam his hand on a slot machine. They circled the casino, arm in arm, waiting for the appearance of their informant. 

“Did General Organa say what this man would look like?” she whispered, accidentally bumping into a waitress. 

He carded his hand through his quiffed hair. “Before you ran out? She said he was tall, beard, somebody by the name of Nathan--”

She froze, eyes wide and glossy. Her tongue was heavy in her mouth, gagging at the taste of his name, hoping and wishing it wasn’t who she thought it was.

“N-Nathan? N-Nathan what?

He rose a brow when her arm dropped. “Why do you know him--”

“Nathan _what,_ Poe Dameron?!”

“Nathan Winter? Nathan, uh,” he rolled his eyes, trying to remember.

“Nathan Wick.” she deadpanned back.

He snapped his fingers, exclaiming. “Yup! That’s the guy. D’you know him?”

A deep cold chilled her skin, contrasting against her burning chest. She felt as if she could drop dead here (hoping at this point to do so) and let Poe take pity on her and fly back to D’Qar in five parsecs or less. Liquid panic pumped her blood, begging for a release in a familiar taste. She grinded her teeth and grabbed a random irresidcent drink off a waitress’s tray, swirling it in the hourglass shaped cup. 

“Woah woah woah, take it easy!” Poe gritted through his teeth, watching her gulp it down. The liquid burned her belly, a hiccup escaping her nose, a temporary sedative.

“Poe, I’m going to mess up this mission,” she held the glass to her head, closing her eyes. “You might as well do this by yourself.”

He pulled her suddenly in between slot machines, curling his body towards her. He rested his hands on his hips, confused as all hell. His neck stiffens with sweat, chewing his cheek.

“You need to tell me who the hell is this Nathan Wick.” he demanded quietly, avoiding eye contact. “You’re acting so weird about it!”

She didn’t want to go this deep in her past, not so soon. Nathan Wick was to be left behind in the tresses of her mind, to lay in the graveyard of the broken skeleton of Canto Bight, but now his lungs were breathing the same air as her once again. He was fraternizing with the same slimy people, gliding through the crowds with that sick smirk, and soon enough he was spilling information to her and Poe, his feline eyes wide with attention.

Poe called her name, snapping her head up. “Who is Nathan Wick?”

“Nathan was… part of my past,” she huffed, Poe grabbing her shoulders. She clicked her tongue. “Okay! Nathan and I were… an item I guess? Arm candy? An old flame? Whatever you’d call it. He’s originally from Hosnian Prime, his family has deep ties with the trade system before the First Order took over. He has close ties with the spice miners and has some real estate here, okay?”

Poe’s blood began to spoil in his body. At first it was fine, did he not just express her past didn’t define her? But now, watching her anticipate an old flame to reignite himself in front of her, treading into an unknown territory, his teeth grinding at the thought. His grip tightened around her shoulders, her eyes sending him a warning, his mind melting at the possibility that any molecule of affection she may have had for him could dissipate.

“Let me go Dameron,” she whispered, shaking her shoulders. He stared past her, hyper focused on the words she spilled carelessly. “Poe, c’mon. _Let me go._ ”

Reality slapped him at the sound of his name, dripped in concern, letting go of her shoulders with a huff. It was now her turn to stare at him with anger, confused by his reaction.

“Let’s find this Nathan bastard and get the hell out of Canto Bight.” he spat, turning around. 

She gaped behind him, trying to match his rushed walk. He mimicked his partner’s actions by sitting at a bar, waving down a bartender droid. He needed something to ground him and not spoil the thoughts running through his mind, some liquid courage before the now infamous Nathan Wick came along and whisked her away--

“You know what I think?” she huffed, taking a seat next to him. She adjusted her posture, trying to pull off effortless elegance, but instead strained her shoulders so far back that it hit the bar’s top. She winced, waiting for Poe to finish his golden shot of liquor, watching him hiss from the stinging sensation.

“What?” he gritted between his teeth, looking at her with bored eyes.

She smirked. “I think you’re a horribly jealous man, Poe Dameron.”

Now it was his turn to sneer at back, a sarcastic chuckle erupting from his chest. Seeing him squirm on his stool, his neck throbbing with an angry vein, it made warmth pool in her belly. However it had a film of slick around it, dragging out her past identity, the one that thrived over the competition. 

Unlucky for her, Poe Dameron was a competitive man.

“I’m _not_ jealous, get a grip on yourself.” he called the droid back, whispering his order to it. She eyed the droid, eyes widening with horror, as it bought back a tray with two square glasses and a small bottle of a glimmering peach liquid. The drink drew attention towards the duo, curiosity in the form of gossip and sneers. Poe felt proud, once having the upper hand from her, now watching her squirm towards his body.

“What are you doing?” she hissed, watching him pour into the glasses.

“I think,” he drawled, watching the iridescent liquid swim. “We should unwind. We’re both clearly uptight, no? Didn’t you say back at base you needed a vacation?”

She could hear Leia’s word drill into her ears. “Yeah okay sure, but you’re going to order the _strongest_ and most _expensive_ drink here?! Where did you acquire the credits for this?”

Poe giggled, handing her the glass. “I put it on his tab.”

She was absolutely perplexed at his sudden change of attitude. Part of her was impressed, tempted even to give an obnoxious high five and throw the shot back like water, but the other part was actually trying to be the law abiding citizen on this mission. She gripped the glass, mouth watering at the deceiving smells of berries, locking eyes with a creature across the bar. It growled at her, sending a shiver down her spine, slowly convincing herself to take the shot. 

“Here’s to us,” Poe began dramatically, clinking her glass. “May we take down the First Order and look good while doing it.”

“You’re full of it, my Gods,” she rolled her eyes, pulling the liquid to her nose. “You need to take that kind of talk and keep it to yourself, we’re among their friends.”

Poe said nothing and threw his head back, his spine vibrating at the taste. She kept a straight face taking her shot, then giggling at his wincing one, until it hit her belly, sending warm waves up. She knew she was in trouble since he pulled the bottle towards him but she didn’t let him see it, biting her tongue from potentially gagging. She made a mental note to ask a waitress for water later; at least one of them has to be sober to be able to remember the information to bring back to Leia.

She raised a hand when Poe began to pour out another shot, her joints a bit more loose and fluid. “Take it easy pilot, we can celebrate when we get back to base!”

“We’re going to be here for three days, honey, we have time.” He ushered her glass back, his lips pursed.

Oh the alcohol was getting to him alright, he slurred with way too much sweetness around the pet name.

Before she could clink her glass with his, her birth name erupted in the air, popping her secure bubble due to its familiarity. A cold sweat dampened her exposed neck and her heart ran down to her feet, throbbing her bones, waiting for the indication this was all some fever dream she was having in the middle of a battlefield somewhere. 

She slowly turned her head to lock eyes with Nathan Wick, blood frozen with pure anxiety. His hair, smooth and ink black, curled at his ears, his feline emerald eyes hazy from cigarette smoke. His skin, beautifully russet, flexed behind his sheer black shirt, his towering body hovering over her shrinking one. She noticed he sported new scars on his chin and eyebrow, eyes trailing down to his neck, swirls of black ink decorating down to his mid chest. He pulled his cigarette out, long fingers covered in scriptures, chuckling. His dark beard swirled along his strong jaw, slacked with escaping smoke.

“I knew it was you, the way you threw that shot back.”

_Maker if you can hear me just strike me down, right now._

“You’re working for the Resistance now, love? Didn’t take you as a revolutionary kind of girl!” He exclaimed, placing an arm between the two of them. She knew what he was doing, a clear action of dominance between himself and another alpha male. Her skin crawled, pulling her head to peer at Poe.

“You have something here for me and my partner, Wick?” She gulped her bravery, the liquid vibrating from her touch. Poe was stoic, jaw tight, watching her make her own move. He had to ground himself again, making sure not to mess it up with his budding anger, but things got much more complicated and he was willing to complicate it even further. He was secretly baffled at the tightness in his chest, trying to find the foundation of his folly, watching her beg for him to sweep in to say something. 

“You’re not going to ask me how I’ve been? Hosnian Prime has been pretty lonely without you, dove…” he pulled the bottle towards before Poe grabbed his wrist, shaking his head.

“She asked you a question bud,” Poe spat, Nathan’s hand retreating with a mocking laugh. “Let’s just make this as quick as possible so we can part ways.”

She chewed on her bottom lip, groaning internally at his reaction. _Fuck Poe I really wish you would just keep your cool, especially with Nathan fucking Wick._

Nathan wasn’t at least a bit intimidated and she knew it for a fact. He fixed his sleeve, pulling his hands back in protest. “No worries, I understand. What do you say dove, you wanna take this some place quiet so we can talk about what important information I have?”

She retracted before Nathan could caress her cheek, her stomach ill from her old pet name. At the height of their tumultuous affair it tasted so sweet, like cubes of sugar against the palate, swirling in her mind like the liquid courage that accompanied it. She swirled her drink in her glass, shaking her nerves away, taking that second shot. 

“Sure, why not?” she mused, rising up. She slipped a couple of credits as a tip and gliding behind Poe, feeling his shaking shoulders match her wobbly knees. “Grab a booth and _we_ can discuss terms.”

Nathan said nothing and nodded his head towards the left, letting his long legs smoothly drag themselves towards the VIP section of the casino’s floor. Poe grabbed the bottle and slammed his temple against hers.

“Make this fucking quick.” his venom was quick as his body struggled to keep up.

Her eyes stung with frustration, feeling the alcohol mix with her blood.


	2. Who Else But Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just the thought of Poe Dameron losing his patience with her past lover made her belly warm. She was front row to the most scandalous show ever so she simply filled another cup of the drink, sat back, and relaxed.

The music was muffled behind the rich mahogany doors, the dim lighting swirling with clouds of spice smoke. The booths were lined with garnet velvet, softened by silk seats and golden ropes. She recognized some of its patrons, those of which had endless amounts of credits in different banking corporations in the Outer Rim. She kept her head low just in case, her earrings bouncing with each careful step. Nathan chose the last booth, secluded by a matching velvet draping tied back with the golden ropes, an onyx table and crystal glassware. The alcohol was catching up to Poe, silently regretting his jealousy got the best of him. In any other circumstance the blush across his nose would spread from laughter and dancing joints but now it was from his bubbling anger from this character Nathan Wick, who kept his partner too close for his comfort.

He lagged behind while Nathan tightened his hold around her shoulder, whispering in her ear. Occasionally her shoulders would tense up, lagging her speed to match Poe’s in case she needed him to intervene.

But she didn’t even turn her head. She didn’t even  _ need him.  _ And that made his blood boil with great rage.

“Why does me joining the Resistance bother you so much?” she inquired, her annoyance peaking.

“You did a full 180 once you decided to leave me, dove,” he simply stated, pulling her closer. She immediately jerked back, tucking her clutch underneath her arm.

“ _ I  _ left Canto Bight, to make something of myself…”

“But you do agree, it is a bit of a change,” he smirked. “I’m sure it’s not comfortable sitting around with those… jumpsuits, believing in a system that has proven time and time again. I’m sure you had thought about coming back to the finer things in life.”

She glared at him, watching him take a drag of his cigarette. “If the finer things in life means being a slimy bastard, fraternizing with the First Order so you can get deeper pockets then--”

“Hey,” he hissed. “You need to keep that pretty mouth of yours shut. I don’t care what signia my client carries, as long as those credits are transferred with no issues they can do whatever they want. If that makes me a bad man then I’m the worst one in this entire casino.”

Her head was pounding both from the alcohol and Nathan. “You Bantha fodder, you bastard of a man--.” he squeezed her shoulder in warning. 

When they reached the booth Poe squeezed an arm between them, prying his chest to make space. She sent him an apologetic look but nudges his rib to remind him to be on his best behavior. He slammed the bottle on the onyx table, a bar droid making its way towards the booth.

“Good evening Mr. Wick, a pleasure to see you at our esteemed section in the Canto Bight Resort and Casino. What may I serve you and your equally important guests?”

“What say you dove? The usual?” he waved his hand, not looking at her. She was still staring at Poe, watching his eyes glaze underneath the swirling smoke.

“I’m fine.” she sweetly told the droid, its head bowing.

“Please do not hesitate to beckon for me to appease you. Enjoy your time at the Canto Bight Resort and Casino.”

Poe’s eyes flickered to Nathan, who was smug and sinking into the velvet seating, taking another drag of his cigarette. She opened her mouth, tasting the after smoke of spice, letting the dry substance coat her mouth. She wanted to level Poe, remind him that this was for the  _ Resistance,  _ not for his bruised ego. She clamped it shut when he snapped his vision back to her, his lip curled up.

“Well let’s talk,” Poe began, widening his knees and laying his forearms. She could roll her eyes but decided to not test the waters. “I don’t have all night.”

Nathan raised a brow. “Oh? You have plans? I’m sure your base doesn’t run into these kinds of luxuries too often. Trying your luck on a sabacc table?”

She gaped again with a retort until Poe rose up from his pose, arms crossed. She silently wished she was the one sitting in the middle of this petty fight. She knew both of the men better than she knew herself, down to the last hair on their head, and she knew they were getting ready to rip each other’s throats off. Poe’s nostrils would flare and suck in air when he was getting irritated while Nathan’s eyes would squint, the corners twitching upwards. Both, however, would tense their muscles, a public display of masculinity, letting their chest puff and expand. They tested each other’s territory, dipping their toes, just to see who would snap first. The tension was a pulled back rubber band ready to smack  _ her  _ in the face if she were to intervene. 

Just the thought of Poe Dameron losing his patience with her past lover made her belly warm. She was front row to the most scandalous show ever so she simply filled another cup of the drink, sat back, and relaxed.

“I want to go back home as soon as possible. This place makes my skin crawl, it’s full of garbage…” Poe sneered, his upper lip rising a bit.

Her head snapped to him, trying to hide her stinging offense. She cocked a brow to signal for him to cool down but he ignored her.

“So you expect to get information like that by offending me? Has the Resistance taught you any manners?” Nathan gawked, waving his hand at Poe.

His nostrils flared. She knew Nathan succeeded in his first phase: annoyance.

“Can the two of you put away your cocks for one minute and stop comparing who’s bigger?” she suddenly slurred, eyes glossy. The alcohol crept up on her and her mind fell onto the horrible realization that she was  _ drunk.  _ They both stopped and looked at her, coming to common realization that her drunkenness could mean one thing: her mouth knew no filter.

Nathan chose to ignore this and sat back, rolling his eyes. “She’s right. I’m only here to give information and that’s it.”

Poe guided his hand up, shrugging. “Then do just that.”

She sat back, her spine reduced to jelly, feeling the familiar flush across her nose. She tried to ground herself by smoothing the fabric along her thighs but the dizzying haze of the alcohol duplicated her vision, swirling along flashes of her skin tone. The music was dialed back a few seconds and her mind was unable to piece reality. She looked at Poe, his eyes now more sunken and skin flushed. He ran his tongue through his lips and she twitched, trying to play it off as a shiver from the cool air.

But the room was hot. The room was spinning. And so was her mind, with thoughts of his tongue, running along his lips over and over. 

“Are you okay?” Poe whispered, placing a hand on hers. His breath was heavy and his words slipped with a slur was well.The heat from his skin radiated off of her, sinking deep into her bones. 

She only nodded, swallowing a thick lump. “Where did you get from whatever information… from…?” she slurred again, leaning in. “Hmm? Where do you get off with this, Mr. Wick?”

He smirked at her state. “The First Order has done nothing for me. Even then they’re just a pawn in my game.”

“Your game?” Poe scoffed, grabbing the half full glass from her. “There’s really no shame from you rich bastards?”

“Yes, my game,” he agreed, raising his hand to wave down the droid. “I could care less who the so-called bad or good guys are. As long as the credits remain no less than eight digits in my bank account why should I?”

“You keep mentioning how  _ fucking  _ rich you are, we get it...” Poe trailed off to himself, taking a sip of the drink. Nathan’s brow remained cocked as he put out his cigarette on the onyx ashtray.

Nathan ignored him and ordered a glass of water and Rodian splice. She knew that Rodian splice was his next phase: manipulation by memory. She remembered the distorted dance of sequins from her emerald dress, skin tight and strapless, as she hung around his waist, begging him through slurring syllables to keep an eye on the droid to make sure the proportions were correct. She can still feel the heaviness of his palm, rubbing circles on her bottom, taking a drag of the spice joint, watching the gold paper crackle the russet dust. Her mouth mimicked the dryness in real time, letting her tongue click on the roof of her mouth, her throat closing at the memory of his tongue dragging the shell of her ear after he drank the dangerous concoction in one swig.

She clenched the seat from under her, her hips rocking back and forth. It was no longer fun. It was no longer playful, no longer a game of wits. He was going to trigger something either inside herself or Poe, more so Poe, and she didn’t want to wait around to see it. She wanted to grab Poe’s face and scream  _ he’s fucking with you, you absolute idiot, that’s all this is,  _ but she sat with her lips tight and heavy eyes, blinking at a snail pace. The droid comes around with the order, placing it on the table.

“You’re not surprised?” Nathan commented, handing her the glass of water. She held it with a shaking hand, secretly smelling it before resting it in between her knees. She knew deep down he wouldn’t hurt her but you could never be too sure with a man like that. Poe said nothing, merely watched him, now his hand resting on his hip. 

“Not many people would be opposed to my kind of wealth. What, you think me living on Canto Bight is what makes me, me? I’m more than your presumptions. Your partner sure didn’t think so, once upon a time.”

She snapped her head up. “Seriously, Nathan? Leave me out of it.”

He raised his hands up in defense. “I’m just setting an example! When I reached out to  _ princess _ \--”

“General.” Poe gritted.

“ _ General.  _ When I reached out to General Organa it was out of the kindness of my heart,” he looked down at her, her heart racing. “When I saw you leave that ship it just made me even more obligated to help. You know, you hold a special place in my cold, Hosnian heart, dove.”

Her eyelashes fluttered in surprise. There was a genuine dip in his voice, soft and baritone, letting himself open the door just a bit. She didn’t leave Canto Bight with positive resolutions; merely coming here, watching him watch them squirm in luxurious seats and to sweet talk was the last grain of salt in her wounds. It was worse that Poe had to come along. She almost forgot about her feelings for him and the sick possibility he may feel it back. This was pure torture, worse than what each of them experienced at the hand of the First Order. 

Her hand reached out behind her, pretending to straighten her back, placing it on top of Poe’s. He tensed up at first but sank when her thumb rubbed his knuckle, maintaining eye contact with Nathan. He took notice and threw back his drink, hissing at the slick bitter taste. She felt a flush of victory spread across his chest, until he slipped his hand into his front pocket.

He twirled the slim golden stick between his fingers, watching the dim lights highlight the color. He held it between his pointer and middle finger.

“Poe,” he began, finally acknowledging his name. “You seem like a reasonable man. With every quip you’ve had a reply, good ones too. I can appreciate someone who matches my energy. I can see why you like him, dove.”

Both of their bodies turn to stone. She knew it, her subtle display of affection hit a nerve. However, Nathan’s nerves were made of steel, he knew how to take the lead up to his final performance, holding nothing off limits. She didn’t notice Poe’s hand retreating back to his side, leaning his body forward. Her legs tensed up, twisting her ankles. 

“Shut up,” she croaked out finally. “Just tell us what you have and leave.”

“Drink the water. I promise I didn’t taint it. Your mind is no good drunk, especially on something as strong as what’s in that bottle.” he snarled, putting the stick in between his pink lips. 

She saw the gears rolling in his eyes. He had another trick up his sleeve.

“You want one?” he pointed the stick upward at Poe.

“I don’t smoke.” he groaned, pinching his nose.

“Oh, you don’t smoke?” he sneered. “But you did harvest, no?”

All of the alcohol inside Poe evaporated. His eyes shook in his skull and he felt a great swift of air hit his ribs, aching against his heart. He suddenly rose and Nathan matched his speed, gripping his silver lighter. She sat up, confused at his sudden energy switch. This was all going south way too fast and if it meant dragging out Poe by his ankles then so be it.

“P-Poe what’s wrong, what are you  _ saying  _ Nathan--”

“The truth. Isn’t it true, don’t you want to know what’s in this  _ luxurious  _ joint--”

“--Shut up, j-just shut up--”

“Wait, hold on Nathan, what are you--”

“--Let me give you a clue, my dove. You used to smoke it for  _ hours  _ and lived in the clouds of Bespin--”

“ _ Shut the fuck up _ \--”

Now it was her turn to shoot up in her seat, since Poe’s hands reached out to grab his sheer black shirt, letting the delicate material ball up. Nathan merely stood there, lighting up the spice joint, letting the drunk coil in his ego. The smell, earthy and heavy, made her dizzy as she held onto Poe’s arm. She didn’t bother to even care about Poe’s past with spice (she’s experienced worse, prime example was Nathan Wick), she only cared about not making Canto Bight a hot spot.

“Poe, fuck this, let’s go!” she demanded, now tugging at his waist. The blaster laid heavy in his pocket, grazing against her hip. She reached for it with a tight grip, just in case, watching his jaw slack with anger. “Poe!”

His head snapped down at her, staring into her crazed eyes. She had never seen him so upset, so  _ different _ . His eyes were darker, more bloodshot, teeth clenched so tight the air wheezed out from his cheeks. His cheeks were rushing with crimson and shoulders hunched. He was no longer man, just a vessel fueled with hatred and alcohol, all because this pretty boy Nathan revealed a small piece of his past that he deemed to be on the same level of his own capital crimes. It absolutely terrified her.

But that wasn’t necessarily the case.

Poe was upset… because of  _ her. _

Her eyes, glossy with her pleads, focused on his. He sighed and let go, fists still tight as his side. Nathan smoothed out his shirt and laughed with a snarl.

“Let’s go, Dameron,” she sighed, letting go of his blaster and grabbing his wrist. “Fuck this. Fuck the information, we don’t need it.”

Poe snatched the bottle from the table, looking around at the other booths. Two couples stare at the trio, whispering behind their drinks, taking notice at how deceiving the scene may be. That was Nathan’s last trick, his encore crowd pleaser. To always come out innocent enough that no one would suspect. His shoulders fell and snapped from her grip, walking ahead. She stood her ground, stomach swimming, staring at her past lover.

“Where do you get off?” she snapped, her knees shaking. 

“You don’t want a man like that on your side.” he simply stated, taking a slower drag. She gulped at his calm demeanor, sensing not one ounce of irritation or anger. “He has no impulse control.”

“You don’t know him like I do.”

“Hmm? No? You know him better than me?”

“Of course I do, do you take me for an idiot--”

“You’re a smart girl. Isn’t it obvious how similar we are?”

She froze at his question, heavy with implication. She crossed her hands across her chest in an attempt to anchor herself in place. She couldn’t believe the audacity of it all. She lowered her eyes, in search of an answer, the floor swaying back and forth.

“Yes,” she sighed. “Yes. You both are unbearably stubborn, motivated and arrogant.” he scanned his face for a reaction. “Unlike him you decided to stay here. You remained at your worst.  _ You _ decided to-to let your cruelty get the best of you. What, you only find validation in the arms of women, alcohol, and spice? You’d think after all these years you’d mature.”

His chest heaved. “Watch it, my dove--”

Her name snapped off her lips like a slap. He flinched, his eyes narrowing at her firm frame. “You will call me by my birth name.”

Her name was slimy on his tongue, breaking a stem of memory from his mind. “You don’t know better. What, you think being in a petty resistance would make you a name? A notch in the history books? As if they would remember who you are--”

She slammed the glass on the stone table. She turned her back to him and sped out, her feet moving faster than her mind. Poe’s figure hazed out of the crowd, dodging crowds, and her hand was held out to grab the door before the droid could do it for her. The venom in his words dripped into her brain and she couldn’t bear the dizzying manipulation any longer.

“He won’t love you better than I did! He could never give you what I did! I  _ made  _ you!”

His words punched her back but she kept going. The coin machines drowned out in her mind, the Fathier hooves echoing in her brain, rippling the noise in and out of frequency. Everything was out of control and she felt herself reject back to her old self. Back to the hate, back to the cravings of being numb, endless nights of simply walking across luxurious carpets reeking of alcohol and contempt. Back to where she felt like maybe the troubling grip he held on her heart was right. She had to find Poe, ground herself, let her explain. No, let him explain. No, let them--

“Poe!” she called out, his head hung over his hunched shoulders. He looked up, eyes still burning with anger, snatching a key card from the counter.

“I’m going to bed.” he murmured, making his way to the clear elevators. She followed suit, stopping to rip off her heels, slinging them over her shoulder.

“Poe, what Nathan said--” she began until he raised up his hand.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Hold up,” she raised a brow. “Poe, wait-- Are you mad…  _ at me _ ?”

She groaned, scanning the key card on the pad. “Oh come on.”

“Oh come on you! What did I do?!”

“Nothing! It’s not you!” he snapped, looking down at the resort. Berry blue shined on his face, cascading down his exposed chest.

“Whatever Nathan was trying to say, I don’t care! He just… knows when to push buttons you know?” she took down her ponytail, rewrapping it into a messy bun. “I don’t care whatever involvement you had with spi--”

He zoomed out the elevator towards the end of the hall. She gaped at his reaction, running out and leaving her heels on the floor. He slapped the keycard against his thigh, standing in front of the door. He looked down at her then back at the gold numbers.

The room was modest for Canto Bight. A large bed levitated from the floor, crisp sheets of rich blood red cotton, the neon letters warping on the folds. The floor was mahogany, matching the dresser and nightstand. She stood against the ‘fresher’s lights, the warm yellow light highlighting the gold on her jumpsuit. The weight on his shoulders fell off with a deep sigh. He turned his head to her, trailing down to her bare feet, folded hands and her creased eyebrows. She ringed her hands and took careful steps to him. He stood still, stone still, watching her hips sway slowly.

“I only got us one bed, we’ll only be here for the night and you can divide the space with pillows like you always do--”

“Oh my Maker can you  _ listen  _ to me!” she hissed, slamming the door behind her.

“I used to smuggle--” he began, but now it was her turn to raise her hand in interruption.

“I don’t care. I really don’t. Whatever you did, it doesn’t matter.” she whispered, relieved that he was relaxing. He sat down at the edge of the bed, burying his eyes into his palms. “What did you tell me just a few hours ago, hmm? You made that choice to stop it all and what matters is what you’re doing now.”

He groaned, swirling his eyes.“I fucked up this mission, huh?” She smirked and shrugged, flattening her hand to rub his arm up and down.

“I think it’s safe to say we can blame the informant on this one,” he sat down next to him. “But I do have a question for you.”

He said nothing but grabbed the bottle, taking a quick swig. He handed it to her who did the same, rubbing the leftover liquid from her lips with the back of her hand. “Are you mad at me?”

He scoffed dramatically. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Then why did you react so harshly with Nathan? He’s an annoying moof milker but there’s something else…”

He chuckled at her insult. He rested his hands on the side of his thighs, throwing his head back. He blew his lips and rolled to look at her, alcohol working back in his gears.

“It’s the way he looked at you.”

She bit her cheek, feeling herself heat up again. He had that same look in the booth, deep pools of cool mocha smoothed over with the slick of his mouth. It was hard to maintain eye contact with him when his eyes were lowered in a haze, mouth slacked with his signature smirk. She noticed how rich his olive tone looked behind the neon lights, chest heaving with sweat, veins popping out his neck. She wondered what it would taste like if she latched on to the pumping skin. She laid the head of the bottom in between her lips.

“It’s the way he talks to you. It makes me so angry. I can’t explain it, I can  _ see  _ what he was thinking of…”

“What was he thinking about?” she whispered, letting the words fall from her lips. His hand danced along the sheets, landing on hers.

“How badly he fucked up with you.”

He watched her mouth twitch as he came closer, hesitating at first. He tucked a hair behind her ear, bringing a thumb to massage her jawline. She melted into his touch, hot and coarse, her neck rolling slowly towards the right. He dipped his head, his eyes still low.

“I can see his thoughts…”

He laid a kiss on her forehead, then her temple, then her eyelid. She closed her eyes as he dragged his lips towards her button nose, apples of her cheeks, finally laying back on her temple. He smelled her hair, the perfume lingering in each soft strand, his chest pulling towards hers. His stomach bubbled again with the aftershock of his envy. His other hand pulled her hip towards his, fingers massaging the soft dip. He intertwined his fingers with the lace, balling it in his hand.

“His hands, when he touched you, when he looked at you....”

His lips met hers, at first soft but pushed with a bitter taste of misery. His tongue slid into hers, meeting the roof of her mouth, his eyes open to watch hers flutter.

“He wouldn’t stop staring at you… his eyes were on me but his words were to you…”

He tugged at her hips, earning a sweet mewl from her throat. His hands snaked up her belly and gripped her breasts, frowning at his unraveling. The taste of sweet peach liquor pooled in her mouth. Poe’s hand gripped against her front, palm pressing down on her sternum.

“He wouldn’t even  _ fucking  _ acknowledge my existance… you-you…”

This was his undoing. Right here, in the middle of Canto Bight, a place of sin and uncensored euphoria. He could feel it in the gnashing of their teeth, clinking incisors, jaws so far open that they could devour each other. She pulled his head closer, foreheads rubbing in great strength, carding her fingers through his waves. He pulled back to take in the sight before him: messy bun began to unravel underneath the pomegranate sheets, lips red and glossed with their saliva, pieces of exposed flesh blushed and covered in goosebumps.

_ Nathan truly fucked up with you. _

She propped herself up on her forearms, mouth still slightly open. He took the opportunity to reach for her zipper, one hand resting on her ribcage, tugging it down. Her arms slipped out of it with ease, the cool air conditioned breeze immediately prickling her nipples up. 

“I can’t even begin to imagine someone else besides me being with you… inside of you…”

He yanked the front of the jumpsuit to sit her up, pulling it down until it snags at her hips. She took the rest off herself, an immediate blush creeping down her neck at the reminder that she wore the outfit with no panties.

This had to be a dream, he thought, those six words running through his mind in fragments. This had to be. His thoughts were no longer on the same restraints that he had ever since she walked out of the ‘fresher on the ship, the weight of the matter crushing his brain stem.

“Look at you,” he gaped, dragging a hand down to her sternum. “Not even panties, why?”

She swallowed cotton, his thumb brushing against her nipple. “I-I can’t with t-this on--”

“Oh you can’t? Yes you could,” he taunted, smirking as he leaned in to kiss her collarbone. “Maker, that just makes it worse…”

He trailed off to her nipple, finally taking a long drag over it with his hot tongue. She hissed as he swirled around it, hand resting on her pelvis. She didn’t know who this man was in front of her. He was a manifestation of the greediness of his envy, green and hot with motivation. 

“Poe--” she began before quickly dropping her head back when his finger trailed up her slit. She opened her knees more to let his body in, hips moving up to add pressure to his lazy pace. He gave her breast a quick squeeze before rising up, taking the digit and popping it in his mouth, taking a long drag with his eyes closed in bliss.

“You’re  _ this  _ wet? Were you this wet when you were sitting next to  _ him? _ ” The end of his sentence was met with great venom, her clit throbbing in response.

She screamed internally that of course it wasn’t, he shouldn’t be so obvious. Nathan’s existence was as miniscule as a grain of sand in Tatooine. Wasn’t it obvious? She met his gaze one too many times during briefings; she knew what they meant. His words were always heavy with suggestion, directed to her blushing ears, as if they were only ones in the room. She let the weight of his passing palms on her lower back in between tight spaces and tight hugs after a near death experience on practically every mission motivate her on sleepless nights in her room, fingers desperately working circles on her clit. The signs were there, as tight as his words to her ears.

His hand pushed on her sternum to lay back down, his wet finger back on her slit. The coldness of his saliva met with her warmth, now pushing down on her swollen clit. She heaved up and down with a miserable plea, hips working on their own to allow some kind of movement. Poe dipped back down and she sighed into his hot breath.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he teased, his forehead still resting on her collarbone. The heat of his breath made her skin absolutely boil, wishing if he would just trail a few inches lower, drag his tongue just a bit faster…

“Not for him.” she wouldn’t dare say his name. She wouldn’t allow his name to taint her tongue.

“Oh so for me?” he breathed, looking up for a reaction. He needed to hear it, he was almost certain he would beg for it if he had to.

“F-For you,” she stuttered when he added pressure to her clit. “ _ Always  _ been for you.”

He added another finger against her clit, rolling it in between them. She gasped harshly, unable to swallow a desperate breath, when he began to work fast and harshly. She was already teetering on an orgasm, her back tensing and flexing. The waves of her orgasm were coming to shore, tickling the edge--

Until he stopped. Brutally. 

She propped herself back up, a cry escaping her throat pathetically. Her eyes trailed down to his hips, the backlights of the casino illuminating his waving figure, her mouth watering at the sight of his palm swirling his hard cock. He shook his head, immediately reading her mind.

“You don’t get this, not yet,” he reassured, pushing her back down. “I don’t think you deserve it.”

“Deserve it?” she groaned, biting her bottom lip.

His fingers were back to the busy swirls, her body coated in frustrated sweat. She squinted hard, stars blooming in her dark vision, pulling her orgasm from deep in her hips, finally feeling the sweet release come upon itself--

Until he stopped again.

“Poe!” she practically yelled, his laugh echoing behind the races again. Her eyes snapped open at the sight of him pulling out his hard cock, already glistening with his pre cum. Poe said nothing, instead allowed himself to take the two fingers that were working feverishly against her clit and trail up her wetness. He swirled it against the head of his cock, pulling down to coat the rest of his shaft, a ragged moan escaping his parted lips. His movements were lazy, on purpose, once again soaking in the sight of her damp and lovely body.

“What do you want?” he demanded, his speed catching up. He was getting too messy, way too rushed, letting his own self indulgence get in the way. She just stared until he snapped again “What do you want? You want this cock?”

“I-I-” her thoughts were leaking out of her head into the desperate tears that threatened to fall from her face. Her thigh was coated when she tried to clench her knees together, fists tight with the sheets. He kicked his pants off as well as his shirt, the flying buttons landing on her chest. The trail of hair made her head spin, the only indication of touching himself by the flex and snap of his wrist, the mystery of its girth and texture tipping her equilibrium. 

“How did he fuck you?” he demanded again, getting on his knees. He yanked her hips forward, his eye contact painfully strong. “Did he fuck you hard, was he soft? Did he  _ taste  _ you at least? Did he  _ tell  _ you just how  _ good  _ you tasted?”

His tongue flattened against the curve of her inner thigh, earning an earnest moan from her. Her hands laid on top of his and her body sank deeper into the mattress when his tongue took a long drag along her slit. Her back was damp with sweat and her breath was cut with deep pants. He rested his temple against her thigh, eyes fluttering at the taste of her coated lips, quickly lapping up to her clit. Her back arched at the heat of her tongue, fingers flexing out of her fist.

“Do you want to know how you taste?” he proposed, taking the tip of his tongue to swirl slowly around the bud. She rose a hand towards her mouth, biting a knuckle to prevent herself from sounding too pathetic. “You taste so sweet, sweeter than anything in this galaxy. Gods I could just  _ live  _ in this taste, you’re so fucking  _ good _ …”

The vibration from his husky voice rocked her hips forward, leaning into suckling lips. Her orgasm was on a thread, settling in between sharp scissors. Just one harsh movement, just one more pressured lick and it would let the thread split into two. She hadn’t realized just how wet she was until his two fingers slipped into her with ease, curling at the joints to reach a spot she never knew existed. She blubbered out pleas, unaware as well that he sped up his pumping on himself. As soon as the first hiss escaped her lips he remained on that spot, intoxicated with the taste of her and his teetering mind.

Her orgasm rolled with great thunder, shuddering against the coldness of the room, pooling on his tongue. He refused to let himself release the great lust in his ribcage so he let go, holding both her hips down to lap up every last drop.

She had no time to recover from her hiccuping movements when he rose up from the floor, finding her lips, shoving his tongue in her. She could taste herself on his tongue, the obscene taste making her whimper, mixed with the faint liquor. Their kiss was back to its aggressive state, occasionally sucking on each other’s bottom lip. He gripped it with his teeth, pulling the flesh back with a slow pop.

“You see? I knew you tasted so sweet…”

She carded her fingers through his hair again, tugging at the scalp. He let out a deep groan at the touch of his erection on her belly. He lowered himself but stopped.

“W-What? What is it?” she asked, watching his eyes pool with golden intent. 

He nodded his head up, taking her wrist. His eyes were intense and focused, stars gleaming in his irises. He turned her around and pushed his knees behind hers, letting her fall on her palms on all fours. His hand trailed down from in between her shoulder blades to her tailbone, palm curving her bottom. She shuddered again under his touch, hips pushing towards the mattress. He merely smirked, pulled her back to the edge, pushing her hips further down with minimal pressure. He made a harsh smack on the soft skin, a yelp piercing the air.

“Look at you.” he pointed towards the window, her reflection barely there. She shifted a bit up, her eyes swimming with bashfulness and lust, finally catching their reflection. It was obscene, it was absolutely obscene. Her hair was knotted from the constant thrashing, his as well from her desperate fingers, breasts swelling and dipping forward. Her brows were frowned at watching herself lower even further, ass in the air, and his hand spreading her thighs even further.

“Do you see yourself now?” he took his cock and dragged it at her opening. “You look so good like this, ready to take me in, aren’t you?”

She gathered the strength to nod. He nodded back, lurching forward to kiss her shoulder blade. He bit down slightly, letting himself slide in again with ease. She gasped at the stretch, locking eyes with her reflection at her eager arch. He gripped both of her hips as he jutted forward, shuddering at each harsh inch, enveloping himself in her warmth. He chuckled at his reflection now, slapping her ass one more time.

“Look at how good you look taking me in,” he praised, propping a knee on the mattress. “You were made for me, made for this cock.”

She looked behind her to see the wild expression on Poe’s face, unsure if this was still the same man. He ranked his hand through her hair before gripping what was left of her bun, pulling her head back.She used to fantasize of this, sweet words in her ear, embracing her and cradling her through her endless orgasm, butterfly kisses along her wet cheeks. Not this animalistic being, completely possessed by his own folly and desire, smiling wildly against her damp skin.

This. This was better than what she imagined.

His hips snapped as soon as he filled to the hilt, gaining momentum from his propped knee. He licked two of his fingers, going back to her clit. She could barely let her moans escape, completely overwhelmed from each of her nerves being worked to the dirt, instead just choking out hiccups. He gained speed in his thrusts and in her clit, pulling her upwards from her scalp. She laid against his chest, his tongue licking along her jaw.

“Look outside,” he groaned, swallowing back a moan. “You see that? That’s the c-casino. Do you think he’s watching?”

She dragged out a groan at the thought, his hand freeing from her scalp to trail up to her throat. He merely held it in place, his eyes closing to lose himself in the sound of their skin slapping. He would roll his hips while he was in her, matching the slow speed with his fingers until she tightened up, plummeting back into hard snaps.

“Poe oh my  _ Maker, _ ” she managed to speak, her mouth rough as nails. He responded with a swallow then a cry.

“I-I hope he is. I hope he knows I’m fucking you  _ right  _ just feet away from him, that f-fucking--” 

She reached out a hand to cradle his cheek, the slight roughness of his budding facial hair scratching her soft skin. He leaned into her face, placing fast and wet kisses wherever he could, his thrusts now much more sloppy and scattered. He wanted to continue but between his own heated thoughts and her crying moans tearing into the air, he would be an absolute mess of words. Poe Dameron had never known how impetuous and harsh he could be, how far a man could dig into his skin like this, but upon first glance at her body and beauty, it wasn’t hard to not understand why. There was no sign of stopping, he was stubborn in his ways, the alcohol now trailing out his body and into his scattered grunts. He sobered up at her taste and realized that he couldn’t go without it, he’d rather have his tongue cut out and thrown away in a pit before even considering it an option.

Tears formed in her eyes when he pushed her clit down further, his fingers working back and forth with great speed. Her moans were more sporadic and loud, her cheeks tearing from her bites. His eyes remained closed, letting his orgasm course through his blood and into his grip on her throat, tightening underneath her jaw. She noticed her chest shaking from her own pleasure and her ears buzzing, the corner of her mouth collecting saliva.

“H-He could never fuck you like I can, h-he can-- oh  _ fuck--  _ he could n-never be me--”

His speech spilled out as his orgasm rolled into his hips, jutting into three thrusts to spill himself inside of her. His hand welcomed hers, hot like lava and twice as thick as the last one, earning a tearful and long moan. He shushed her in between kisses, rubbing his face with her wet cheek. She didn’t see a finish line, he just kept working her until her orgasm fizzled out into a dripping warmth, exhausting any noise from her throat.

He let go of her throat to wrap his arms around her waist to calm her down. He remained inside of her for a while, watching arriving ships at the port and crowds meeting in a nearby plaza. The hum of music filled the air, along with the throbbing lights against their skulls. He bought her down to lie on her side, slipping out of her, bringing a leg to hook around him. She turned around, placing small kisses on his collarbones.

“...Leia’s going to be so angry with us.” he suddenly chuckled, watching her smile in agreement.

“Yeah… don’t be surprised when she puts one of us in ground detention,” she rubbed her eyes with her palms. “And we’re going to be so hungover…”

He kissed her shoulder, letting the salty skin run against his tongue. “We can sweat it out.”

She smacked her lips and looked up at his cheeky demeanor. “You’re a teenager, Dameron!”

He was silent as his resting hand lifted, fingertips dancing underneath her belly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wheeeew this one took a minute! Regardless I'm thankful for any kudos, comments or even y'all considering to read it!

**Author's Note:**

> I would be lying if I didn't say I didn't write this under the influence, but then again you didn't hear it from me...!
> 
> Anyway! Thank you for reading this mess of mine, I always appreciate any and all feedback!


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